


Just Breathe

by Thotful_writing



Category: Days Gone, Days Gone (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Danger, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Kidnapping, Slow Burn, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-03-13 09:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18938572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thotful_writing/pseuds/Thotful_writing
Summary: Abby was on the run, not from the cops or anything, but from freakers. They were close on her heels and she had nowhere to go. Deacon watched as she ran through the mill yard, trying to convince himself to just leave her there and not look back, but he couldn't. Deacon could never turn his back on someone in need, especially an unarmed woman.





	1. Chapter 1

_Bullshit. Bullshit town, bullshit gun, bullshit life._ The words rang through her head as she ran, she couldn’t see the freaks anymore, but she could hear them. She knew she should have never come to this mill, at night, without sufficient equipment, but here she was. Images of her life passed before her, as well as the picture of freakers feasting on her corpse. Her legs grew tired, her lungs burned with each breath as she ran. She saw a shed and wondered if she could climb on top of it for safety, she headed for it. As soon as she approached the side of the building, she heard the door swing open.

The second she felt someone grab her she thought it was all over, there was no more running, no more fighting, this was it, the end. She felt herself being pulled backwards and it wasn’t until the door was closed in front of her she realized it wasn’t a freaker that grabbed her.

One arm was wrapped around her chest while the other hand was covering her mouth. Her back was pressed against their chest while she faced forward. She struggled, trying to turn and see who had grabbed her and who was holding her, but she couldn’t. She tried to scream and jerk out of their grasp but it was no use.

“Shhhh, calm down. I’m not gonna hurt you.” A low, gruff voice tried to soothe her, after a moment she stilled her movements.

“I’m gonna uncover your mouth but you have to stay quiet, if you don’t we’re both dead. Understand?” He spoke close to her, loud enough for only her to hear.

She eagerly nodded her head as his grip went slack. She turned around to face him, it was too dark to see his face completely, but he looked rugged, unshaven, like he’d been out here for months.

“Name’s Deacon.” He whispered.

“I-I’m-“

“A complete dumbass. Just what the fuck were you doing out here by yourself?” He cut her off before she could finish.

“Excuse you, I was doing just fine until you pulled me into this… shack with you.” She was caught off guard by his bluntness.

“Just fine, huh? From where I was standing it looked like you were about to be freaker meat, a little gratitude would be nice.”

“And what should I thank you for? Kidnapping me or getting us both trapped?”

She was about to say more when she heard a screech outside the shack. She was startled and inched closer to Deacon. He would have said something smug and arrogant but with the movement just outside the door he decided to keep it to himself for the time being. He placed his finger in front of his lips, signaling for her to stay quiet. He peaked through a hole between the boards. Her hand found his jacket and she held onto him, hoping it would bring her some kind of solace. He turned back to her and held up 3 fingers, he then pointed to where they were outside the building.

She felt her heart starting to pound again, she had no ammo, no knives, and her bike was too far for her to get to without being eaten alive, they were trapped. It began to get harder for her to breathe, she felt like everything was closing in on her, her chest rose and fell quickly as she struggled to fill her lungs.

“What- Shit.” Deacon glanced over to her when he felt her grip tighten on his jacket.

“No, no, no, you have to stay calm and quiet. Just breathe.” He spoke in a hushed tone.

“Don’t you think I’m trying?” She spoke a little too loud and heard the freakers moving closer, which did nothing to help her current situation.

“Eyes on me. Don’t worry about them out there.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to pull her attention from the danger outside.

“Breathe in… and out…” He inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower. She tried to match his breathing but panic still swelled in her chest.

He splayed his hand over her chest and grabbed her hand and placed it over his chest, his gaze never breaking away from hers.

“Do as I do. In… and out… in… and out…” She felt his chest rising and falling beneath her hand. After a few moments she mimicked his actions, her chest rising and falling in sync with his.

“Good, good. You’re doing great. Now keep that rhythm while I look outside. Can you do that for me?” He waited until she nodded her head silently before he peaked through the gap in the boards again, this time there were no freaks in sight.

He glanced over to her as her hand still rested on his chest and her breathing continuing to slow down.

“I think it’s clear, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna leave the shack and go left towards my bike. We’re gonna go nice and slow and stay quiet.”

“N-no, I can’t go back out-“ She shook her head hesitantly.

“We can’t stay in her forever and I’ll be with you the whole time. You can do this. Are you ready?” His hands rested on her shoulders again as he held his gaze to hers again.

“Okay, let’s do it.” She nodded as she felt her hands start to tremble again.

She took a deep breath and turned towards the door, her hand gripped the handle as she slowly pushed it open. She peered out but saw nothing, taking the first step outside the shack. She felt his hand resting on her lower back, comforting her as she moved. She turned left as he said and saw his bike sitting along the roadside. Her first instinct was to run for it, she glanced around and didn’t see anything, she wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. Deacon felt her muscles tense, so he grabbed her arm, keeping her from jolting.

“Slow.” He mouthed when she turned to look at him. She nodded her head and faced forward again, moving slowly towards the bike.

Deacon’s hand remained around her arm, she knew it was to keep her from running, but it also comforted her knowing he was there. As they neared the bike, she heard the freakers again, Deacon’s hand tightened around her arm as he moved closer to her.

“Faster.” He whispered to her. She didn’t hesitate and picked up the pace, getting closer to their destination.

She refused to look anywhere else, she kept her focus on the bike and let Deacon worry about the freakers. Once they reached the bike he threw his leg over it and waited for her to climb on, they could hear the freaks getting closer and closer. She held onto the seat behind her, but when he took off she lurched forward into his back and decided to wrap her arms around his waist for better stability. She nuzzled her face into him as they rode, not wanting to look back at what was following them.

Deacon never wanted to get mixed up with anyone, he preferred to be alone, it was easier that way, but he couldn’t exactly drop her off at the nearest gas station and say ‘good luck’. He had a code, a sliver of morals and he’d never be able to just leave her somewhere. He headed towards his camp and hoped he’d figure out what to do with her by then. He couldn’t say he hated the feeling of her arms around him though, a gentle touch was hard to come by out here.

They arrived to a small clearing in the woods, an abandoned Ranger’s Station, as they neared the gate it opened automatically. He drove inside and parked the bike, propping it up on the kickstand.

“You can let go now.” He glanced back at her and then to the arms that still clung to him.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” She loosened her grip and climbed off the bike.

“Look, uh, about that back there, I didn’t mean to call you… you know, a dumbass.” He scratched the back of his neck as he looked anywhere but at her, he suddenly felt ashamed for being so short with her.

“It’s okay, I can be kind of a dumbass sometimes.” She smiled at him.

A thick silence settled between them as they stood only a few feet apart from one another. Deacon scuffed his boot in the dirt while she fidgeted with her fingers. Neither had ever wished for a freaker or runner to show up but they were in this moment, hoping to end the silence.

“I want-“

“You can-“

They both finally spoke, but at the same time.

“Go ahead.” Deacon let her speak first.

“I wanted to thank you for, you know… saving me.”

“Oh, uh, no problem, couldn’t exactly leave you there to die. Look, you can stay here for a while, if-if you want to. I know it’s not much, but it’s safe and a place to lay your head at night.”

“Really? That would be- Thank you, I mean, as long as it’s not inconvenient for you?”

“No, it’ll be nice to have someone to talk to other than the freaks that come to the fence at night.” He joked.

He motioned for her to follow him up to the station. She glanced around the camp, wondering if  he’d always been alone or if he’d lost someone, she decided to table that question for another time.

“You take the bed, I’ll take the floor.” He pointed to the twin sized bed in the corner of the room.

“That doesn’t seem fair. It’s your bed, you should sleep in it. I’ve slept on worse things than a floor.”

“No, no, you’re taking the bed.” He shook his head.

“No, I’m not.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared right back at him.

“Why are you so stubborn?” He asked.

“Why are you?” She shot back.

They stood in silence again, caught in a stalemate. Neither of them wanted the other to sleep in the floor. They were both stubborn and unwavering in their stance, determined not to back down. The tense silence seemed to last forever until she sighed.

“Look, why don’t we just share the bed? We’ve already spent time pressed against each other in the shack and on your bike, what’s a couple of hours of sleeping going to hurt?” She finally broke the silence.

“Fine, but no cuddling, you stick to your edge of the bed and I’ll stick to mine.” He unzipped his jacket and kicked off his shoes.

She let her hair down out of the ponytail it had been in for days and removed her boots as well before taking off her dirty jeans. She glanced at him as he lifted his shirt over his head. Her eyes roamed over the scars covering his back and the large tattoo that tried to mask them. He turned around and she averted her gaze quickly as she climbed into the bed. She pulled the covers back and slid underneath them while he remained on top of them. They faced away from each other until they both rolled over, seeking a more comfortable position. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments, the silence was no longer tense or unwanted, neither felt the need to say anything as they lay there.

“You know, I never caught your name?” His voice was low, filled with exhaustion.

“Contrary to popular belief, it’s not ‘dumbass’. I’m Abby.”

“Nice to meet you, ‘not dumbass’ Abby.” He smirked and she rolled her eyes at him.

“And you as well, Deacon.”

He tensed at the sound of his name on her lips, it sounded different somehow, lighter, hopeful.  He watched as she struggled to hold her eyes open any longer, her expression softening as sleep overtook her. He felt the urge to pull her close, to tuck her hair behind her ear, to kiss her softly, but he refrained. He couldn’t get attached, not again.


	2. Chapter 2

Deacon woke with a jolt and immediately grabbed the pistol he kept beside the bed. She froze completely as he aimed the gun at her.

“I-It’s just me.” She had stopped breathing momentarily and held her hands up.

“Shit. Sorry, I’m not used to having someone else around.” He placed the gun back on the table as he sat up and yawned.

She started to breathe again and continued getting dressed. She wondered just how long it had been since he was around other people. Deacon stood and stretched, she stared at his tattoos and the various scars covering the front of his body, her curiosity got the best of her.

“Are those from before or from… now?” She gestured towards the scars.

“A little of both. I lost track a long time ago.” He grabbed his shirt and threw it on quickly.

“So I wanted to ask a favor, I need you to take me back to the mill.”

“I’m sorry, do you not remember almost dying there yesterday?” He tilted his head and looked at her confused.

“I need to get my bike. It’s a junker but I’ve had it a long time. I don’t want to see it get parted out.”

“No junker is worth almost dying.” He shook his head and walked past her, heading down the stairs.

“It’s worth it to me. And I can’t stay here forever, I’m gonna need it.” She followed him outside.

Deacon stopped and turned towards her suddenly, stopping her in her tracks. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Even if I take you to get the damn thing, there’s no guarantee you can even get it running to bring it back here. And- And that horde, I promise you they’re still there. It’s just to risky.”

“Fine.” She pushed past him and headed towards the gate.

“Wait, where are you going?” He grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“I don’t need your permission to leave. I’ll get it myself.” She jerked her arm from his grasp.

“That’s a fucking death wish, I’ve been out in the shit for a long time and I’m telling you, you’ll never make it there on foot.”

“It’s worth a try.” She shrugged and continued to walk towards the gate.

“You know what, go ahead. You’re right, I can’t stop you. I uh, I hope you make it.” He threw his hands up and headed towards his bike.

She chewed on her lip for a moment, thinking about what she was about to do. She took a deep breath and approached the gate, she looked back at Deacon, who was paying no attention to her as he worked on his bike.

Deacon heard the gate open and close, he wanted to see if she’d actually left but his ego wouldn’t let him. If she wanted to go then he wasn’t going to stand in her way. If she died, she died, it wasn’t his problem anymore. As he worked on his bike the thoughts kept nagging at him, she left without any supplies, she had a knife and a gun without ammo. But she left on her own. But she also asked for help. Deacon went back and forth with his thoughts, over and over.

“Fuck.” He said under his breath before climbing on his bike and heading out of the gate. She had only been gone about 10 minutes, she couldn’t have gotten far.

He drove down to the main road and sped up, looking for any sign of her. He slowed down when he got a few miles down the road, she had to be somewhere around there. Before he drove further he heard someone scream, he was sure it was her. He listened again and heard where it was coming from. He stopped his bike on the side of the road and headed towards the screams with his gun drawn. He heard a gunshot and then silence. He rushed into the clearing to see her standing there.

“Shit, I thought-“ He lowered his gun, but stopped in his tracks when he got a better look at the situation.

Her hands shook, still holding the knife, blood covering the blade and her. She stared down at the bodies as they twitched and blood continued to pour from their throats and other wounds she had made.

“Hey… Here, let me have that.” Deacon stepped towards her cautiously, speaking low, knowing she was still in shock he didn’t want to startle her.

As he touched her hand she reacted immediately, slashing the knife towards him. He was quick and caught her arm before she could cut him.

“It’s me, it’s just me. You’re okay.” He reassured her.

She looked at his face horrified and realized he was someone familiar. She lowered her hand and let him take the knife. The moment of shock wore off and she started to panic again as she glanced down at the bodies and the blood covering her, her body trembling.

“Let’s get out of here, okay?” He placed his hand on her shoulder and urged her towards his bike.

Her feet were frozen in place, she couldn’t move, her body wouldn’t do what her brain was telling it to. Her throat closed in and it became harder to breath, she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. She placed her hand over her mouth as she sobbed. Deacon moved closer and pulled her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her as she cried into his chest.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. You’re alright.” He placed his hand on the back of her head as he tried to calm her.

“They-They grabbed me and… they were trying to- And I-I just grabbed my knife and- The sounds… the blood…” She looked up at Deacon, an expression of pure horror and panic fell over her face as she recounted the events.

“I know, I know. Come on, let’s go back to camp.”

She clung tightly to him as he drove. She replayed the events over and over in her head, leaving the camp, walking down the road, the two men stopping her and grabbing her. The whole time she hoped Deacon would come and save her, but he didn’t. Deacon remained silent for the ride, kicking himself for letting her leave in the first place. He pulled into the gates and stopped the engine before helping her off the bike.

“Shit, my bike-“

“Seriously? Look, we’ll gather supplies and go after it tomorrow. Together. But right now, we need to get your wounds cleaned up.”

“Wounds, what-“ She looked at her shoulder to see a deep cut in her skin and blood streaming out. She didn’t even notice she had been wounded.

She sat on the edge of the bed as Deacon got some alcohol and bandages. He knelt in front of her and placed the supplies on the floor.

“Good news is, I don’t think you’ll need stitches. But we gotta clean it and make sure it doesn’t get infected. Drink this.” He handed her the bottle of vodka.

She opened it and took a few swigs before handing it to him, he did the same and held the bottle over her wound. As soon as the liquid hit her wound, she screamed out in pain. Deacon acted quickly and placed his hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. She grabbed his hand and pressed it against her mouth harder as she screamed louder. He sat the bottle down and pulled his hand away from her mouth as he began to clean the blood from her shoulder and bandage it.

“Thank you, for- Well, for everything, I guess. I keep getting myself into stupid situations and you keep saving me from myself.”  

“I can’t exactly be mad at you for doing something stupid, my entire life has been one stupid decision after another.” His hand rested on her knee as he looked up at her, their eyes meeting.

“Guess we’re just two complete dumbasses.” Her voice was low as she inched her face closer to his.

“Yeah, fucking idiots.” He swallowed hard as he moved closer to her.

“Morons really.” Her lips ghosted against his. Her heart pounded at his closeness; their eyes locked on one another.

“Fools.” He whispered.

Time seemed to stop in that moment, neither of them moving, both of them desperate for intimacy. His hand felt heavy on her leg, his breath hot against her lips. She felt her heart racing and a nervousness settling in her stomach.

He finally closed the distance between them, his lips pressing against hers softly, almost as if he was afraid he’d break her. She moved closer to the edge of the bed, deepening the kiss as she placed her hands on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Short breathy moans escaped her lips as his hands moved up her legs and rested on her thighs. His tongue lapped at her bottom lip as they kissed, his hands travelled around to her waist and pulled her closer to him as she teetered on the edge of the bed. He was being soft and gentle, but at the same time demanding and firm.

“Deacon…” She moaned against his lips, begging him for more.

Just as he pulled her into his lap they heard gunshots outside. Their focus was torn from each other as they looked up alert.

“Stay here.” He lifted her back up onto the bed and stood up, grabbing his gun and cocking it.

“Deacon St. John… Come on out.” A man shouted from outside the gate.

“Fucking Copeland, is that you?” Deacon shouted and sighed, placing his gun in the holster on his thigh before heading down the steps.

He approached the gate to see Copeland and a few of his men waiting with their guns drawn.

“Why the special visit? Could’ve just radioed.” Deacon said as he approached the gate.

“The reason I’m here required a special visit. You ain’t been around the camp much these days.”

“That why you’re here? To check up on me? That’s sweet, it really is, but as you can see I’m perfectly fine.”

“That ain’t why I’m here, I got a job for you. A few days ago, I had something taken from me, stolen from right under my nose. I’ve sent my best men looking for it, but they’ve come up empty. I want you to find it for me and bring it back to me.” He glanced around Deacon’s camp from outside the gate.

“Well, if I’m gonna track it down I need to know what it is.” Deacon stood with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting to hear what ridiculous thing Copeland wanted him to go after this time.

“A girl, her name’s Abby. She killed two of my men and stole one of our bikes.”

“And who is she to you?” He fought the urge to glance up at the station to where she was currently hiding.

“She’s my wife, well, soon to be. We ain’t exactly said ‘I do’ yet.”

“I didn’t know you even had a girlfriend. If she’s your wife, why’d she run?” Deacon narrowed his eyes at him, this whole situation seemed off.

“You see, she was a gift, a peace treaty of sorts and I guess she wasn’t exactly thrilled at the thought of getting hitched right away. Cold feet is all.”

“And how much are you paying me to fetch your bride?” Deacon didn’t like the idea of someone being forced into a marriage, but he also didn’t like getting in the middle of things.

“You find her and bring her back to me unharmed and you’ll never have to spend another credit in my camp. Whatever you want, whatever you need, you can take it.” He smirked at Deacon.

“That’s a hell of a deal, Copeland. Know where she was headed?”

“She was spotted not far from here, we’re headed down the road to see if we find any sign of her. You ain’t seen a short, brown haired woman come through, have you?”

“The only women I’ve seen around here have tried to eat me for dinner.” He answered flatly.

Copeland and his men laughed as they continued glancing around the camp for any sign of her or her bike.

“Fair enough, look, you find her and you’ll be set for life, my friend.” Copeland nodded at Deacon before he and his men got on their bikes and drove off.

Deacon waited a few minutes before heading back up to the station, cursing himself for getting involved in this shit. He didn’t know what to do at this point, especially now knowing he’d just made out with Copeland’s bride to be and was this close to fucking her just moments before he showed up. He knew he had to talk to her to get more information before he could decide on anything.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Copeland left and Deacon headed back up to the station, she never mentioned any of this, never said a word about even knowing Copeland. He needed answers.

He walked into the station to see her still sitting on the bed where he left her, she glanced up at him, her eyes meeting his with tears already streaming down her cheeks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t plan on dragging you into this and honestly I had no clue you knew who he was.”

“But you could’ve said something, anything instead of letting me get ambushed like that.” He raised his voice slightly, he wasn’t exactly mad at her, just annoyed.

“And what would I have said? Hi, my name’s Abby, by the way I’m the slave bride of Mark Copeland, ever heard of him?” Her voice she trembled as she spoke, she still wasn’t entirely sure of what Deacon was going to do.

“Why didn’t you tell me you worked for the creep?” She was just as angry knowing she was with one of his men.

“Let’s get something clear right now, I don’t work for Copeland. I do odd jobs here and there for credits and that’s it.” He didn’t want her thinking he was under Copeland’s control.

“This is fucked, you know that right? This whole thing is fucked.” He scratched the back of his neck as he paced the room anxiously.

Copeland could come back at any moment and find her here, then what would he do? There was no situation in which this worked out well for him. If Copeland found out he had her there and he lied about it, it would only bring on a hell of a mess for him.

“Are you gonna take me back?” Her voice was small as she spoke, looking down at her fingers.

“I- I don’t know. If you stay here, he’s gonna find you eventually and then I’ll be pulled into the shit. If I hand you over to him, then he’ll-“ Deacon looked over at her, she held her gaze to the floor, she knew full well what he’d do if she came back.

Deacon paced back and forth for a bit, still not any closer to making a decision. She watched as he was deep in thought, she felt bad for putting him in this position. He never asked for any of this, he was only trying to help her. She couldn’t let him put himself in any more danger because of her.

“I think it would best if I just left.” She stood and stepped towards the door.

Deacon considered letting her go, it would solve his problems and he wouldn’t have to worry about her or Copeland anymore.

“Shit, wait. I’m not letting you go out there alone to get eaten by freaks, kidnapped by Rippers, or forced into marriage by Copeland. We’ll figure something out.” He moved closer to her.

“But this isn’t your fight, I’m not your responsibility.” She stared up at him.

“You became my responsibility when I pulled you into that shack. So you’re gonna stay here until we make a plan.” He placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you, for everything.” She reached up and threaded her fingers through his beard. He groaned at her touch as he took a step closer to her.

“Shit, no. This can’t happen.” He pulled back from her, remembering she was Copeland’s fiancée and he definitely didn’t want to make things any more complicated.

“You’re right, this situation is already a fucking nightmare.” She sighed at the loss of contact.

Silence fell between them, things were more complex than her being some drifter now. Deacon wanted to help her, but he was also just hired to find her, which only complicated things even more. He never should have gotten involved. She sat back down on the bed and picked at the dried blood on her fingers, with Copeland showing up she had briefly forgotten about the events that happened earlier. Her heart began to race as she recalled the events in her mind, the two men, the blood, their sounds. She snapped herself out of it, she needed to get their blood off her.

“You got anywhere I can get cleaned up?” She scraped some of the dried blood off her arm and looked up at Deacon.

“Yeah, but you’re not gonna like it. Come on.” He motioned for her to follow him as he walked through the door and headed down the stairs. Once they were at the bottom of the steps, he led her over to a shed against the fence.

“So… I’m supposed to-“ She glanced over to Deacon.

“Yep.”

“And you’ve-“

“Yep.” He nodded. For a moment she considered leaving the blood instead of doing this.

“Jesus. Okay.” She sighed as she looked at the barrel of rainwater before her.

“You’ll need these. And I’ll be in the station if you need me.” He handed her a rag and a towel that looked semi-clean besides a few grease stains.

She waited for a moment until she heard him making his way up the stairs, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head, placing it on the wooden table next to her. She looked back to make sure Deacon was far enough away before she undressed the rest of the way.

She dunked the rag in the water and proceeded to wash away the blood and dirt from her arms. The water wasn’t freezing but it wasn’t warm either. She felt her body shiver each time she soaked the cloth and dragged it across her skin. She figured she didn’t want to do this a bunch of times so she might as well make this one count. She glanced back but didn’t see Deacon, she took a deep breath before dunking her head into the barrel and ran her fingers through her hair to help loosen some of the grime.

“Fuck me.” She shouted and breathed heavily when she pulled her head out of the barrel, the cold water ran down her body and made her shiver.

Deacon smirked as he heard her shout, he turned to make sure she was okay. That rainwater wasn’t exactly the best way to bathe, but it was all he had for now. He watched as she scrubbed the blood from her arms and body, trying desperately to get clean, or at least some semblance of clean. He meant to turn back around but her scar caught his eye. He focused hard on her back, she had a long scar running down her spine, it looked recent. He wondered if that was from a freaker or a person.

She wrung her hair out and proceeded to dry herself off with the towel before throwing her old clothes back on, it wasn’t like she had a choice. She walked over to the wooden overlook that was built on the edge of the mountain. She chewed on her nails as she thought about the events from the day. She stared out at the horizon as the sun began to set, the sound of freakers screeching echoed off the mountain side.

When she walked into the station, she saw Deacon eating some soup from a can and had one waiting on the table for her. She sat on the bed and started to eat in silence with him. She fidgeted with the soup can, she wanted to tell him everything, then maybe he wouldn’t send her back to Mark.

“You know I’m not the first one, of Copeland’s brides I mean.” She finally spoke.

“I’ve never seen him with anyone, but then again I try not to spend much time at his camp. What happened to the others?”

“That’s a question I was too scared to ask. He told me they weren’t the right fit for him, never said what he did with them.”

“Where did they come from?” He scraped the edges of the can with his spoon.

“He told me some were traded, as I was, and some were rescued from the shit.” She stared down at the can of soup in her hand before taking a bite.

“Traded?” Deacon looked at her confused.

“My father. We lived in an old farmhouse towards Copeland’s camp. Things got bad and my father went to Copeland for some credits for food and supplies. When he couldn’t pay him back Copeland gave him two choices, either he would take me and my sister and use us as morale boosters for his men, or he would take me as his bride.”

“So my father chose the lesser of two evils and assumed I’d be well taken care of as Mark’s wife.” She felt the tears threatening her eyes again.

“I’m uh- I’m sorry that happened. Have you seen your family since?” He sat the can down and looked up at her, she stared out the window, not wanting him to see her cry for the third time today.

“That’s the funny part, a week after my father gave me to Copeland, word came in about a horde that had set up shop in our barn. I begged Copeland to check it out, to save my family, all he said was ‘I’m your family now.’.” She lost her appetite and sat the can down on the table.

He chewed on the words he wanted to ask, knowing the answer but he needed to confirm it.

“And that scar?” He finally asked. She looked up at him suddenly, realizing he had been watching her.

“A souvenir from Copeland, after I found out about my family I cried for days, I wouldn’t eat or drink, I was trying to starve myself, praying for death. He had his men hold me down on top of a table and ripped my shirt from my back. He said when I agree to eat and stop trying to kill myself is when he’ll end the pain.”

“I was confused, I didn’t know what he was talking about until it became very clear what he meant. He took that big fucking hunting knife of his and cut into my skin, dragging it slowly down my back, stopping every few inches to ask if I was going to behave.” She looked down at her hands and fidgeted with her fingers.

Deacon swallowed hard as he listened to her recount her story, he knew Copeland was fucking insane, but he never thought he’d go this far.

“I tried, Deek, I really did. I hoped he’d cut deep enough to kill me, so I refused to answer. He got to my lower back and finally stopped.”

“I’ll never forget how angry he was that I was making him mar my skin, how he said I was being selfish. He had one of his men sew me up and the next night he did it again, going deeper, and again the night after, until I couldn’t take him opening the stitches and the wound over and over.” Her tears had stopped as her anger built.

“I finally agreed. I wasn’t strong enough to keep going.” Her voice trembled as she looked down at the floor, her guilt eating away at her.

“Wasn’t strong enough? Anyone else would have given in at the first sight of that knife. You endured that torture for days.” He tried to reassure her, his hand resting on her knee as he had done before.

“After that is when I decided to run. I figured taking my chances with the freaks was better than staying there with him.”

Deacon’s fist clenched as he listened to her, the things Copeland put her through, did to her. He wanted to storm into that camp and shoot Copeland where he stood, but he knew he’d never make it back out. He had to do something, he had to help her, to get her out of Copeland’s reach. He decided then that he wouldn’t let her go back.

“Come with me.” He stood up and reached for her hand, she took it hesitantly and stood with him.

He led her outside to the balcony and stood behind her.

“You see that mountain way out there?” He pointed out to the horizon.

“Yeah.” She nodded her head.

“Right below that, in the valley, there’s a camp with good and decent people. That’s where we’re going.”

She turned around to face him, her eyes filling with tears again. She had only knew Deacon for a few hours and already he had shown her more kindness than anyone else in her life.

“Where we’re going?”

“I can’t fix what he did to you, but I can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

 “Deacon, I- Thank you.” She smiled and launched herself into his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Deacon tensed at her action but soon relaxed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.


End file.
